


blow out the smoke or swallow and choke

by atlas_oulast



Series: yearbook, cigarettes, and blood that we’ve shed [3]
Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Crime & Criminals, Drugs, F/F, Guns, Heavy Angst, Heroin, Kidnapping, Murder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sequel, Surprise Ending, light gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 10:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlas_oulast/pseuds/atlas_oulast
Summary: Fear is the enemy of all of them, protagonist or antagonist.~~Veronica and the two Heathers have been captured by JD and taken into his basement. Here he can do whatever he wants to them, and he takes advantage of that - but a stunning new development will shape an uncertain future for these captives, and it only takes a few hours.
Relationships: Heather Chandler & Heather Duke & Heather McNamara & Veronica Sawyer, Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer, Jason "J. D." Dean & Veronica Sawyer
Series: yearbook, cigarettes, and blood that we’ve shed [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1375885
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	blow out the smoke or swallow and choke

**Author's Note:**

> here y’all go... nearly a year after the first installment was published.
> 
> if you have not first read i won’t fucking flinch and green and white and the sun’s so bright, i suggest you do so, otherwise this won’t make much sense.
> 
> heed the tags, everything tagged will be in the story, if any of these are triggering to you than this is not the fic for you. :3

The garage of a murderer wasn’t nearly as interesting as Veronica would’ve hoped.

Despite the hoarder’s playground that was the majority of the upstairs, the garage was barren of much anything, save for two guns mounted on the wall and some rakes, although she didn’t think JD was very keen on gardening. The only other thing of note was some exposed pipes on the walls, which she and both Heathers were now tied to, with some thick rope that had been in JD’s car, not in the practically empty garage.

Also, the whole garage smelled like smoke and what Veronica assumed dead bodies would smell like, and also like iron, probably because of the amount she was bleeding.

When JD was trying to grab her, she struggled, and ended up scraping both knees up pretty well on the pavement, as well as most of her forearms. How exactly she’d managed to get all of her appendages, she didn’t know, but it hurt like fuck, and it was bleeding a decent amount, but when you’re being held captive by a murderer in his boring garage, your chances of him offering you assistance with injuries you sustained while trying to get away from him are pretty low.

She, Heather M, and Heather D were all tied up to pipes along the same wall, with enough slack on the ropes to scoot a foot in either direction, but they were spaced out far enough that there was no way they could touch or help whoever was next to them. Not that they’d be much help anyway, because their wrists were tightly bound, and that rope attached to one attached to their middles, tied around that so their hands were stuck pretty much folded in their laps, and the long loose ends tied tightly to the wall. The knots were really good... he must’ve been in Boy Scouts.

Veronica was probably handling this better than anyone else, sitting quietly, calmly, without struggling or crying. Heather M was crying buckets, and Heather D was struggling and screeching like a feral animal against a gag that JD had put on her to shut her up.

The man himself? He was watching them quietly, standing before them, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. Veronica tossed her head in an attempt to get her hair out of her eyes, and gave him an epic glare.

This only earned her a light tap on the cheek with the blade of the knife he was holding. Oh yeah, did she mention he had a knife and looked about ready to stab someone?

He didn’t stab her with it at first, after basically patting her on the cheek with the cold blade he knelt before her, eyebrows knit in concentration, and carefully, slowly carved out a thin, long line under her right eye.

For her credit, Veronica didn’t even flinch. She grit her teeth against the throbbing pain as he slowly dragged the knife across skin, and blew out a breath when he withdrew.

“Now do you understand, Madam Detective? You’re defeated. Powerless. You have no way out. I hold the power, the weapons, the key to your very life.”

Veronica simply laughed. “You know, you should go to Hollywood and be an actor. You’re kinda great at it, maybe Disney can cast you as a gargoyle when they remake The Hunchback Of Notre Dame.”

JD grabbed a gun off the wall, and loaded it. Okay, okay, she got it now, geez.

Still, he carefully pointed it at her, gritting his teeth and aiming expertly, in such a way that Veronica wasn’t sure if he was going to shoot her. Her blood ran cold at first, because now she understood what looking down the barrel of a gun was like, and then she looked into his eyes.

They weren’t full of determination, or fearlessness, or murder-ness, or even anger. His green eyes were full of fear. 

And his hands were shaking as he aimed.

He wasn’t going to shoot her.

He didn’t have it in him.

The gun did go off, and Veronica screeched, because I’m sorry, guns are fucking terrifying, and she had the right to scream. But there was no bullet wound in her. No, he’d shot a good four feet above her head, at the wall.

Still, uh... terrifying. Although, it further fueled her surety that he was afraid to kill her. Maybe he wasn’t scared to hurt her, but he wasn’t going to kill her.

But why? She was the only one who wouldn’t be scared into silence by any of his threats. She would take the evidence to the police no matter what he did... unless he killed her.

If he killed her, it would prove the the Heathers that he would stop at nothing to silence them, and he wouldn’t have to kill them like her. Actually... Heather Duke not being dead would cause some issues, either he’d force her to assume a fake identity, or he’d kill her. At that point, Heather McNamara would surely stay silent if it meant she wouldn’t die, and after watching Veronica and Heather die, she’d know JD would kill her.

That was how a smart murderer would think. JD might be a psychopath, sure, but he was also pretty smart.

But he wasn’t thinking about the logical route to make sure he didn’t end up in jail. He couldn’t kill her.

She was the one he couldn’t silence otherwise and yet... he couldn’t bring himself to kill her.

And again, she asks, why?

Sure, they’d smoked weed together, and she’d considered him a friend until she, y’know, figured out that he murdered three (two?) people and he’d kidnapped them, but even if he considered her a friend, she was _the one thing_ he needed to silence to put this whole thing to bed. Killing Duke was optionional. Killing her wasn’t.

And he’d killed people. He’d killed people before. He wasn’t a newbie to this stuff, he’d killed Betty Finn and Martha Dunnstock. And he’d (maybe) killed a third person and falsified medical records and coroner’s reports to say that it was Heather Duke.

So _why_ was he afraid to kill her?

He set the gun down, just out of her reach, and went upstairs, slamming and locking the door behind him.

He was afraid to kill her.

She almost started laughing. Because if he wouldn’t kill her, there was a slight bit of hope that maybe, maybe, she’d get out of this alive and live to imprison him and kiss her girlfriend once more.

Speaking of which... god, she missed Heather a lot more than she’d realised. She’d been away for months, and when she did call, Heather never wanted to hear about what she was doing, understandably... so it’d ended up being Veronica saying how much she missed her.

And she did. She missed the steady routine they’d had, Heather in the morning, Heather in bed, Heather at night, Heather’s smile and laugh and her bright, mischievous blue eyes.

And she kinda really wanted her right now. Sure, it’d suck to have Heather be in captivity with her and all, but Heather would help, emotionally, at least. Because she was the only Heather she could tell that she was scared, that she didn’t want to die, that she missed her, that she was _terrified._ She had to be strong, calm, and collected for the other Heathers. Heather Duke was having flashbacks, Heather McNamara was absolutely hysterical as well. Veronica was the only one who could get them out.

She didn’t have time to be weak.

Well, if JD wasn't down here right now, she might as well try and get free. But damn, he must’ve gotten his patch in knots several times over. The knots were snug and secure, and struggling only made them tighter. The rope on her wrists was low enough that she could only graze it with her fingertips, much less grab a strand and try to pull herself free. And with the rope tied tight around her middle, she could only wiggle so much. There was no way she was getting free without slipping the rope higher up and access to something sharp, and she couldn’t even slide the rope up higher, no matter how much she pressed and pulled and wiggled. Did he have a badge in the best ways to make sure the person you kidnapped won’t be going anywhere, as well? Maybe a PHD in it?

But it didn’t matter what his qualifications were in knot tying. Because she was being held fucking captive in a cold dark basement and even if JD was afraid to kill her... he might not be afraid to keep her here forever.

And he definitely wouldn’t be afraid to kill either or both of the Heathers.

And he could be back any second and he could do anything to her or either of the others and she would be powerless to stop it.

Powerless unless she stopped thinking about Boy Scouts and qualifications in knot tying, and started thinking about getting out.

Clearly, she wouldn’t budge any of the ropes, she’d already established that. She needed an outside source to help her at least loosen the ropes so she could do something.

Maybe... if she stuck her leg out...

Juuust barely, she managed to drag the gun towards her with her heel, close enough to grab the gun with her bound hands. Now, if she could fire the gun on the thick rope between her wrists, surely it’d come right apart... and probably some limbs would come apart with it. And JD would surely be summoned by the giant gunshot sound and probably her screeches of pain.

Both Heathers were staring at her as she tried to wrestle the gun, and now that she realised it, her desperate brain had decided to go ahead with the plan for firing the gun to free herself, even though it really was stupid. She was using her teeth, bound hands, both legs, her chin, anything to wrestle it into place, and now that she realised it, she stopped and took a breath.

“...Sorry... I had a stupid idea and then got carried away without realising it,” she whispered.

“Don’t hurt yourself with the gun,” Heather M responded slowly, “But don’t let go of it.”

When JD came back down, Veronica was ready, the long rifle propped up on her knee, holding the end and trigger with her bound hands. It wasn’t pointing at him, but it clearly could easily be.

The gun was cocked and loaded and it would only take the pull of the trigger.

JD reached into his belt, to a hand gun at his side. But rather than point it at Veronica, he pointed it at Heather McNamara.

Heather started crying all over again, looking absolutely terrified out of her mind. And the look in JD’s eyes... he wasn’t afraid to kill her. Even if she was his ‘friend’ for over twenty years. He was more than prepared to end her life.

“Drop the gun, Veronica, or she dies.”

She set the gun down quickly, sensing that if she didn’t in a few seconds, he really would kill her.

So much for the gun being useful.

JD slowly picked up the gun and mounted it back on the wall, under the slightly less scary rifle. He turned back and gazed at Veronica, eyes cold, but full of something indescribable.

“You’re making me very frustrated, Veronica.”

Veronica decided not to announce that she knew that JD was afraid to kill her. Instead, she cooly responded, “I aim to displease.”

“Well, you won’t be sassing like that for long.” JD turned and went upstairs, and Veronica was left wondering what was next.

He came down quickly enough, and before she could blink, a needle had been stabbed into her upper arm, and a wash of dizziness and fuzziness came over her.

And then he withdrew the needle and Veronica fought the urge to giggle.

“What did you do to me?” She practically screeched.

JD shrugged and smiled. “Heroin. I noticed that you were feeling withdrawal symptoms, so I decided to help you out a bit.”

Black fuzziness crowded the edges of her vision, either from anger or from the drug, Veronica couldn’t tell. “You fucking monster,” she spat.

“Have fun, Veronica,” he said, and then, yet again, he was back up the stairs and gone, leaving the syringe next to her, leaving Veronica to suffer under the drug he’d just administered.

The sun shone outside through the widow. It was ten AM.

_____

Heather had to watch Veronica as she succumbed to the drugs in her system. Heather expected the behaviour of someone high on weed, maybe, but really, you couldn’t tell that Veronica had it in her system. It was just her staring into space, not responding when anyone said anything, and her pupils being like pinpricks. Nothing more, really. And it was terrifying.

Heather tried desperately to scoot over to Veronica, but found that the little bit of slack she had wouldn’t allow for that. She started crying at first after realising that, and then suddenly had a realisation.

Veronica was truly their leader. She was the one who’d gonee through the mystery, she was the one who’d realised that JD was the killer, and she was the only one who had been calm, collected, and cool faced while staring down a barrel of a gun. Who else was that brave? Certainly not herself. And Heather... Heather clearly had good reasons not to be functional right now. But she didnt.

She didn’t have trauma that was triggered by being tied up or held captive, as Heather clearly did. She as an grown ass woman, a grown ass woman who’d been kidnapped, but goddamn, she needed to be brave now. Veronica couldn’t, so it was her turn. She needed to get them out of here, somehow. Veronica has done so much for them... she could do this much.

So, Veronica’s plan of shooting her bonds apart, obviously that one wasn’t going to happen. Not to mention, there weren’t any guns near her anymore. And Heather had struggled for hours and ended up curled up in a ball and crying herself to sleep, and she still hadn’t been able to scoot over to Heather to put her head in her lap. So clearly no amount of struggling was going to do anything... so maybe the plan with the gun wasn’t so bad. If only there was something sharp, like a safety pin, or a knife, or...

The syringe! JD had left it down here when he’d gone back up. If she could just...

And she managed to reach it with her leg, dragging it over into reach of her hands, like Veronica had done with the gun.

Once she had it in her hands, she drove it into the rope tied around her middle. It was easier than attacking the rope around her wrists, because with how tight it was it’d take a lot of effort to even get in the right position and it might not even do anything, but if she broke the rope around her torso she’d get her wrists free of being stuck against her lap.

The best technique for getting a rope undone with a needle, Heather soon found out, was repeatedly stabbing it until threads came loose, and pulling at the threads while continuing to slowly stab the rope into coming undone. It was going to take forever, but it was better than, um, being in JD’s basement forever, or getting murdered by him eventually. So she slowly laboured, one thread at a time.

Eventually, the stabbing and pulling became muscle memory, so she could look around while she slowly worked to free herself.

Heather was still asleep, still clothed in nothing but a hospital gown and some crocs. Her chest rose and fell with every breath, and her poor, thin face was sad, even as she slept. Heather really wanted to hug her... it’d been thirty years since she’d hugged Heather. Technically not, since they’d hugged plenty when she came out of nowhere and made her pass out, but they hadn’t nearly been hugging enough to make up for thirty years.

Heather, as she’d told her, had been held captive in an insane asylum for thirty years. She’d been assumed dead for thirty years. And now she’d been finally free... and so soon after, she’d been captured again. No wonder she’dbeen struggling and screaming like she’d been possessed, it triggered massive trauma, no doubt.

And she really wanted to pull the poor girl into her lap and pet her hair and tell her that’s everything was going to be okay, because goddamn, she needed it. Sure, maybe she should be considered a poor woman, or poor lady, because she was in her forties, but her sleeping form looked unchanged from the way it’d been when she was seventeen.

Heather had been isolated from the world for thirty years, and she’d just gotten free, and now the person who’d supposedly killed her was holding her captive. The person who’s family had kept her captive for thirty years had kidnapped her again, before she could blink.

And Heather fucking hated that.

Heather needed her to be strong for her. She couldn’t do it, so she would have to. Veronica certainly couldn’t do it, so she would have to.

She managed, finally, to saw the rope completely open and now move her arms, which she busied with the knot on the pipe behind her. If she got that free, she would be free of the ropes and be able to get the other two free.

Heather strained to see the knot as she tried to undo it, wrists still bound together tightly. Finally, she managed to wrestle free an end, and worked from there, as quickly as she could, because JD could be back at any second.

Finally, though, she got it free, and the rope around her wrists loosened when the rope behind her fell. She frantically threw off the rest of her bonds and sat there, head whirling back and forth as she debated who to free next, settling on Heather.

Now that she knew how to do it and could see what she was doing, she didn’t even need the needle, she just undid the knot on the pipe and pulled off everything when it fell limp when it came undone.

Lastly, she gave Veronica the same treatment, who stared at her blankly, her pupils pinpricks on her bloodshot eyes. Ooo, it was really creepy and gross and she really wanted to punch JD.

Now that she was free and so was everyone else, she looked around for ways to get out. She had no way of knowing if JD was in the house or not, so the door to the upstairs was a no no. Besides, she knew he locked it whenever he’d gone back up.

The garage door intended for the car wouldn’t open no matter how much she pressed that dinky little button, and the garage door that was person sized was locked from the outside and wouldn’t budge. 

The only other thing was the window, and when Heather saw the planks of wood nailed over it in an X, and that it wasn’t an openable window, she just pressed her hands against it softly, hoping to god that maybe a miracle would happen and it’d open, but alas, none of that.

So... there really was no way out. Unless she broke the window, but that would be time consuming, and might not even work because of the planks of wood. And no way would she be able to pry the door open.

Heather sank to the ground slowly, defeatedly. There was no way out. She’d tried everything and nothing had worked and all she had to show for her efforts were some rope burns.

And then she saw it.

Mounted against a corner of the wall, pointing almost straight at her.

A security camera.

He had been watching the whole time.

He knew she wouldn’t be able to get out, so he didn’t do anything when Heather undid the bonds.

So Heather, out of spite and anger, took a rifle off the wall and shot the camera.

She didn’t think she’d actually hit it on her first shot, but somehow, she did.

Quick as a flash, before he could get downstairs, she jammed the door with the rakes, and positioned herself at the bottom of the stairs, rifle at the ready.

Heather heard him unlock it and try to open it, and she held her breath, but thank god almighty, the rakes held. JD banged on the door, shouting all sorts of expletives, and the rakes held.

Shit, he could get in from the outside, couldn’t he?

She raced to the people sized door and breathed a huge sigh of relief when she realised the variable he’d missed.

The woods had been trying to take back JD’s home for years. The car door hadn’t opened in years, the people door, either. The woods had grown up against them, and there was a literal tree up against the people sized door. She’d seen it from the outside.

The only way anyone could now possibly get in or out, other than Heather letting JD in from upstairs, was the boarded up window. JD couldn’t watch them anymore, and he couldn’t get down here anymore.

They were safe.

She’d done it! They were really really really safe!

Heather had woken up and sat up, pressed against a corner, and Heather just rushed over to hug her.

“He can’t get in, Heather, we’re safe for now,” she almost giggled.

Heather melted into the touch, clinging to Heather as hard as she could. “We’re safe,” she breathed.

Heather nodded in agreement. “Safe,” she repeated in response.

JD eventually gave up banging on the door, and the garage went quiet. It was a new fear, waiting for when the next sound would come, having to be ready with the gun, having to make sure Veronica and Heather had some sort of cover. At the top of the stairs was a large flattened box, she dragged Veronica to the corner furthest from both the upstairs door and the window, had Heather hold her, and covered them with the cardboard.

“It won’t protect against bullets, but it doesn’t hurt to have something going on to slow the bullets if they come,” Heather said.

Heather, with a barely moving Veronica curled up on her lap, simply nodded in understanding.

Once that was done, Heather picked up all the rope she’d freed from the three of them and used it to tie the rakes into a much stronger position, and tied the doorknob to a pipe right next to the edge of the doorway, so he wouldn’t be able to get in even if the rakes weren’t there.

And now all she could do was make sure the gun was loaded and wait.

She’d shot guns before, thankfully. Fucking JD had taken her to the shooting range in Sherwood before, and she hadn’t exactly shot a rifle before, but she knew how to handle a gun, how to load it. So she could protect Heather and Veronica, and she would.

She could’ve kept crying when JD gave Veronica the heroin, could’ve just sat there defeatedly, doing nothing. Instead she got up, undid the bonds on all three of them, shot a security camera, blocked the door with four rakes, and was now armed with a gun. Nobody would be coming near Heather and Veronica. If it meant keeping them alive, she was more than willing to shoot JD.

After awhile, she heard some noises outside, and when she peered out the window, she saw JD fighting with the garage door, trying to fight the tree and the years and years of weeds and failing. He tried cutting weeds, spraying them with weed killer, sawing down the giant fucking tree that was growing against the door, and eventually he stopped, defeatedly. He knew he couldn’t get in, and Heather knew it too.

The problem wasn’t that he couldn’t get in. It was that they couldn’t get out. They were now locked in a stalemate. Nobody could possibly get in or out, and all they could do was wait and see who dared make the next move.

The shadows changed and disappeared as the sun moved away. It was noon.

_____________

Veronica was in a world of fuzziness, of a soft bed of pins and needles, and she was treading upon clouds and knives. She didn’t know which way was up or down or left or right - were up and down and left and right real concepts? Or is up really down and down is up answer left is your hand that doesn’t look like an L? She was dizzy and kept spinning right left and left right. Which way was purple again?

And then that world faded into dark, black fuzziness, and she was asleep. And then she woke up, and her head hurt, and the fuzziness was gone.

And she was in Heather Duke’s lap.

She looked up at her. Heather was looking at something off to the side, and then she looked back and saw Veronica awake.

“How do you feel, Veronica?”

“Like I was hit by a truck... what happened? Where are we?” There was something hard but not hard leaning against her... it was a piece of cardboard. Where did they get cardboard? Why did they have cardboard? Where were the ropes?

Veronica didn’t realise that all her questions had been spoken out loud until, somewhere on the other side of the cardboard, Heather McNamara made a noise that can only be described as proud, triumphant, but sad laughter, and pulled back the cardboard.

“I broke my rope with the needle on the syringe that JD used to stab you with heroin. You’ve been basically unresponsive for hours... but I got you and Heather free of the ropes and blocked off the garage door at the top of the stairs with some rakes and the rope, and shot the security camera, and JD has no way to get in,” Heather said proudly.

“So... wait, backtrack, there was a security camera?”

“Yep. And I shot it.” Heather pointed to the far corner and yes, that did look like what she imagined the remains of a security camera mounted on the wall that got shot with a hunting rifle would look like.

And when she turned to look at the door, it was indeed boarded up with rakes in an odd pattern, secured with some rope. It was one of the weirdest things Veronica had ever seen, but it looked like it would work.

“You did amazing, Heather,” Veronixca breathed in amazement.

“The only issue is that while JD can’t get in, we can’t get out. But... yeah. For once I was kinda useful.” She smiled a somewhat sad, lopsided smile.

“That’s okay. It works for now. We have to figure out some sort of plan to storm the upstairs, capture him, and call the police. For now, we’re safe, and that’s what’s important. So... thank you. A lot.”

“So how are we going to storm the upstairs, capture him, and call the police, exactly?” Heather Duke piped up.

“I don’t exactly know... maybe if we take both guns, point them at him till he puts down his weapon, tie his wrists with the rope, throw him in here, and maybe that’ll work?”

“Maybe,” Heather McNamara said. “But he has a giant ring of keys he keeps in his shirt, he might’ve have the key to the door in it.”

“So we board it up from the upstaies, no biggie. Hoarders might not need to film down here, but upstairs every single belonging imaginable is there. We’ll have plenty to work with.”

“Right. And we have to take his handgun from him, and also the Glock he keeps in his shirt,” Heather pointed out. “And also all the ammunition in his belt. I think the two rifles are the only guns here, so Veronica, can you handle a gun?”

“Yeah, Heather- Heather Chandler and I learned how to shoot at a self defense class last spring. God, how am I supposed to keep you all straight? This is confusing.”

“The immortal words said by everyone who attended Westerburg High. But I think you just have to say Heather D or Heather M or Heather C if it isn’t obvious from context, or just... I don’t know. We ourselves never had trouble with it in high school.”

“Good grief,” Veronica said. “But yeah, I can handle a gun just fine, don’t worry. I can also handle punching JD with the strength of ten sumo wrestlers, preferably in the balls, if the need arises.”

“Leave some for me,” Heather Duke said, smiling a little. “He deserves it after keeping me in his parent’s insane asylum for thirty years. God, I want to kill him.”

“So, when do we exact our plan, Queen Heather?” Veronica asked. “I mean, Heather McNamara... god, this is going to be hard. I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna do this.”

“I think it’s at least noon, but I don’t think we need to wait for a specific time. There is no time better than now to destroy JD’s balls,” Heather said. “But why am I Queen Heather?”

“Because you took down the security camera, untied al of us, and forced a stalemate. I think that deserves a royal title, don’t you?”

“Olay, guys, I think we’re forgetting something,” Heather Duke said. “What if the door is locked? JD’s a psychopathic bastardised who would probably be angry enough to leave it unlocked, but what if he was smart for once and locked it, knowing that we’d have to take down the whole rake structure to get in the house? Then, he could force us back, take the guns and rakes, and regain the upper hand.”

Veronica was quiet for a moment, thinking. They were very valid concerns that Duke had brought up, but what other choices did they have?

“Maybe one person goes forward with a rifle, the other follows really close behind, the third has a rake to beat JD senseless with, as well as the rope to tie him up with. We can’t all stay in the garage, he can’t have any chance to recapture us. Don’t get scared, don’t compromise, don’t let him have the upper hand. As in, fight as hard as you possibly can and stop at nothing to get him. Throw shit, shoot if you have to to let’s him know you won’t stop, scream as loud as you can to alert the neighbours. Remember, he’s outnumbered, three to one.”

“Still, he might be outnumbered, but Veronica, the drugs are probably still having some effect on you, and the drugs they gave me in the asylum have long since worn off, but I’m still really weak from them. And he can handle a gun better than any of us.”

“But we have to try. What other choices do we have? Just stay down here forever, slowly starving to death? What happens when someone has to take a shit?”

Both Heathers giggled awkwardly, like third graders, probably due to the stress of the situation.

“Still... if he can’tget in, if he has any plan of keeping us alive, he can’t give us food or water or access to the potty. And we can’t get it for ourselves. Unless someone has an alternate plan... and if it involves he window, I’m already voting against it. That’s looks like a bad idea just waiting to happen and I know that’s now that I mention it, one of you has had that bad idea.” Indeed, both Heathers looked thoughtful.

“What if we shot the glass out and climbed out?” Heather Duke suggested.

“And cut our palms up until we bleed out trying to create a space big enough for us to climb out? Plus, that’d take forever, and with the noise, JD would know and he would be waiting outside for us. Or maybe he’d climb through the window before any of us did.”

“What if we pull apart a hole big enough with one of the rakes?”

“Still loud, time consuming, potentially more dangerous than just facing JD head on, since he would hear and be waiting, or maybe we’d acxidentally slit our wrists on the glass. And we know the other two doors won’t open unless we have a sword made of a nuclear bomb and vibranium.”

“Yeah yeah, so the window won’t work. But the plan with storming the upstairs is still stupid. We’ll dismantle our entire rake system and if he gets us he’ll have the upper hand against us again,” Duke said. “And there might be more of us than there are of him, but he’s stronger, and has at least two hand guns. Knowing him,I wouldn’t be surprised if he maybe had some dynamite. Maybe he wouldn’t blow us up since that’s be very suspicious, but he’d threaten it, and JD Doesn’t do empty threats.”

“We have fo try... it’s still our only option. Maybe our options kinda majorly suck, but it’s our onlyoption. But if you dont want to do it, that’s okay, I’ll still fight for you. That goes for both of you. No hard feelings at all of you want to back out,” Ceronica conceded.

“No, I’m doing this, no matter what. I have a score to settle with Jason Dean,” Heather M said determinedly.

“I’ll do it, I guess you’re right that we don’treally have any other options. But don’t hesitate to leave me behind, if you get our and get the police, they’ll get me, so it’ll be fine,” Heather Duke said. “But I want the rake and rope, not a gun. I’d sooner shoot myself than shoot him.”

“Then let’s do this,” Veronica said.

Her heart pounded like war drums in her chest, from the adrenaline or drugs, she couldn’t tell. Veronica half wondered if the Heathers could hear her heart going bam, bam, bam, against her sternum.

She was going to face on a murderer with two guns and a rake and some rope. She was on heroin. HeatherDuke was skin and bones. Heather McNamara clearly had more fight in her than she’d thought, but still, she was scared, small, and upset.

But they checked the door before taking down the rake structure, and found it blissfully unlocked. Maybe JD had done it on purpose to bait them into coming, but Veronica didn’t care.

They’d were going to face down Jason Dean, and they were going to win.

Hopefully. Yeah, the odds were most definitely not in their favour. Too bad they didn’t have Katniss Evderdeen on their team, she’d be a lot of help.

“Ready?” Heather M asked, barely a whisper.

Veronica and Heather nodded.

_________

They burst through the door, Veronica in front, Heather M in the middle, and Heather D in the back. And JD wasn’t immediately there.

Well, he sure wouldn’t let them just walk out. So he’d be there someplace.

Indeed, when they got to the ‘dining room’ which was actually a table and a few chairs, all covered in mounds and mounds of paper and mail and crap, there he was, sitting on a pile of what was probably years of mail, smiling... smirking.

“Ooh, you’re so viscous and scawy!” JD squealed, smiling downright evilly. The evil glinted in his eyes and Veronica aimed her gun right for them. She narrowed her eyes, and made it clear that she would shoot if she had to. She was not afraid... unlike him.

“You’re so pathetic. Heather Duke wouldn’t hit anyone with the rake if her life depended on it, Heather M won’t shoot, and Veronica, your aim is terrible. My heart is down here. Should I tape a target over it to help you?”

Veronica jerked the gun up and shot the wall not three inches above JD’s head, almost stumbling from the force, but managing to hold her ground.

“My aim is perfect, Jason Dean.”

Heather M stepped forward, and her bullet went almost straight through the same hole that Veronica’s had created. She did stumble from the force, though. “As is mine.”

“You’ve been taught well, Heather,” JD mused, thoughtfully tracing the back of hos hand.

“Yeah, taught by a murderer.”

“Precisely. And yet you allow yourself to feel comfortable wielding a weapon a murderer taught you to use, a weapon I might’ve used for when I murdered Betty, or Martha, perhaps even Marie.”

“Marie?” Veronica asked.

“Marie Teetle. Rather, Eleanor Marcus’ cousin seven times removed. She is the one I murdered in place of Heather.”

“No... no... not Marie Teetle,” Heather McNamara gasped.

“Who’s Marie Teetle?”

“No... it... it doesn’t matter, Veronica,” Heather Duke said, sounding utterly and completely sad.

“They won’t tell you who Marie Teetle was because they fear the consequences of telling you that. But I don’t. Marie Teetle was the prime suspect of a school shooting, at Tyler High School. Her young sister teaches at Tyler Elementary, where Heather teaches. Marie Teetle had killed herself before the police could arrest her. And Marie Teetle was the prime suspect of the murders of Betty Finn and Martha Dunnstock. But when she killed herself with the murder weapon, the case was closed.”

“...Why... why did you never mention Marie Teetle to me, Heather?” Veronica asked, almost timidly.

“I...” Heather trailed off, and looked uncomfortable.

“Why wasn’t it even in the note, that Marie Teetle existed? Didn’t you say something along the lines of that it was a cold case with no suspect?”

“Because Marie Teetle’s name was cleared the next summer, because fingerprint analysis on the gun found that Marie Teetle hadn’t touched that gun. And Marie Teetle didn’t kill herself. She faked her death.”

“Okay, okay, wait, but didn’t you say, not two minutes ago, that Marie Teetle was the one that you killed and managed to make everyone believe was Heather Duke?” Veronica asked. Her head was spinning and buzzing with all this new information.

“I did. I fed you misleading evidence. Just like I did before. Eleanor Marcus was not the one who found Betty Finn’s body. The causes of death we’re never undetermined, the coroner said that it was undisputedly death from gunshot wounds.”

“....And why did Heather not say something and call the crap?” Veronica asked.

“Because Heather was too focused on what she did to Marie Teetle.”

“What did she do?”

“Marie Teetle was a student of Weaterburg High. The Heathers tormented her and then she took out her frustration on Tyler High, just to prove the point that Marie Teetle wasn’t as weak as the Heathers die her out to be. And she said in her little manifesto that Westerburg was next, but she faked her suicide instead. The girl I killed in place of heather Duke was Tatiana Wheeler.”

“I remember her... barely,” said Heather Duke.

“Almost the splitting image of Heather Duke, not quite. Her hair was the wrong colour. So I befriended her and encouraged her to dye it. But I did tamper with coroner’s reports that time... as in, luckily, the coroner had just died after a long battle with prostate cancer, just the evening after Tatiana died, and I was able to seize his final coroner’s report and make some... edits.”

While this was good information and all, Veronica was pretty sure that JD wasn’t trying to make friendly chit chat, he was trying to distract them. So, wuick as a flash, she got the end of the rifle pointed against his chest.

“Why, Veronica, and I was just trying to give you more information to keep to yourselves down in the basement, torture yourselves over knowing that you’ll never tell anyone and bring me to justice.”

“Brave words from someone I’ll gladly kill,” Veronica spat.

“No, Veronica... then you’re no better than him. I... he taught me to shoot, I can’t bring myself to shoot anything myself...” Heather McNamara set down her gun. 

JD’s chest was shaking with laughter against the barrel of the gun.

“Heather, that’s exactly what he wants! He got under your skin to make you stand down.”

“Indeed I did,” JD said, and he pulled the Glock out of his shirt and pointed it at Heather Duke. “Shoot, Veronica, go ahead, but I’m taking at least one Heather with me when I go.”

“That’s not how this is going to work. Heather, please, please, pick up the gun!” Veronica begged.

Instead, Heather McNamara burst into tears.

“You know, Veronica, my original plan was to kill three of the most popular girls in school... no... the most popular girls in school, actually. My original plan was to kill Heather Duke, Heather McNamara, and Heather Chandler. It’s a shame that Heather Chandler isn’t here too, it’d make things oh so much more fun.”

“Actually, she is,” a familiar voice piped up.

And there, standing in the now ajar doorway for the front door, was Heather Chandler, with a small, hunched over woman in a hospital gown.

“Unfortunately, Jason, you won’t be killing anyone today,” Heather spoke, and Veronica nearly wilted, because there was her beloved girlfriend, standing there, challenging JD. But she kept the barrel of the gun firmly on his chest.

JD switched to pointing the gun at Heather Chandler, and Heather shrugged and pulled out her own handgun. She owned one she usually kept locked up and unloaded in the basement, but there she was with it.

“I’ve come to make a trade. A girl you will dearly want once you hear her name, I will give you her in exchange for both Heathers and the one Veronica.”

Heather Chandler was beautiful, the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

“And what is her name?” JD barked.

Heather Chandler was so beautiful, she looked like an angel.

And the floor was beginning to shift, and she felt dizzy, so dizzy, and it was fuzzy.

And even the name spoken wasn’t enough to blast away the dizziness enough.

“My name is Betty Finn.”

Heather Chandler raced to grab the gun from Veronica and keep it against JD’s chest, and Heather McNamara caught Veronica as she collapsed.

______

Betty Finn was the girl, caramel hair cut in a bob, wearing thick framed black glasses. She had aged, clearly, but she was Betty Finn.

And she was holding Veronica, who’d just passed out. Numbly, Heather sat down, lowering Veronica down with her. She didn’t know what else to do. Betty Finn was alive, Heather Chandler had aged really well, Veronica’s had just passed out, Betty Finn was alive. Betty Finn was alive!

Even JD looked surprised, shocked, in fact. Heather had expected, when she’dregained the ability to think after the biggest shock ever, next to Heather Duke’s existence being revealed, that it had been another quirk in JD’s ever complicated plan. Instead, he looked absolutely shocked, and after a moment of just utterly stunned silence, JD shook himself out of it.

“You can’t be Betty Finn, I killed you,” he said, but he didn’t sound paricularlg convinced by his own words.

“I survived, bitch,” Betty said, and then Heather Duke almost fell over.

“You... you were in the hospital too!” She gasped.

“I was. I almost died, but I survived by the skin of my teeth. Heather told me that JD had probably messed with the records, because I survived and apparently they thought I was crazy because I kept telling them that JD had tried to kill me and nobody believed me, and so I was transferred to Hazel Green.”

“You... you were there the whole time and I never realised it... if I’d known I would’ve taken you with me when I ran..”

“Heather Chandler facilitated my release... and I will take your place in captivity with JD.”

“See, Jason, I told you you’d want her. Now you get to interrogate her all you want and figure out how she escaped, and I’ll take my fellow Heathers and Veronica,” Heather Chandler said.

“If I let you go, the first thing you’ll do is call the police,” JD said. And yeah, he had a point. That’s exactly what Heather intended on doing if she got out.

“But... why can’t we all escape? Why do we need a prisoner exchange?” Heather Duke asked, as Veronica began to stir.

“Because how exactly do you tell the police this? That you’ve found the person who killed Heather Duke, but the person we thought was Heather Duke was actually Tatiana Wheeler, and Betty Finn is alive. JD takes Betty in exchange for not killing us, and we promise we won’t use our phones to contact the police.”

“No, actually, this makes no sense, Heather,” Heather McNamara piped up. “Because we could escape now with Betty, explain the whole situation to the police..”

“No. JD gets Betty Finn in exchange for you, Heather, and Veronica, and we promise the police won’t get involved.”

“Because if they do, Betty dies. And if you try and escape with her, I’ll cut down all of you with bullets. And if I don’t get Betty, I’m killing Heather Chandler.”

Okay, now that she looked, this made more sense. Heather had the gun against JD, and he had his gun pointing straight at her.

“And I require the agreement of all parties before I disarm myself,” JD said.

“Okay... so we leave Betty, we go, we won’t get the police involved. Fine,” Heather McNamara agreed. She didn’t love this, but..

“W-What are we doing?” Veronica rasped, eyes barely open, and immediately after, she shut tem again.

“Do we require Veronica’s consent? Because I say okay, fine, but I don’t think Veronica’s lucid enough to say yes, much less understand what’s going on,” Heather Duke said.

“Okay, Veronica doesn’t need tobe I involved, that’s my fault for administering the heroin,” JD agreed, and Heather Chandler nodded through obvious thinly veiled rage.

“Okay, Betty? Do you agree?”

“One hundred percent,” Betty Finn is, voice clear, trying, and determined. She had to have something up her sleeve, but what it was was beyond Heather’s knowledge.

“On the count ofthree, we both set down our guns and allow the prisonsers to switch sides on their own. Betty will proceed to the far wall, Heather Duke, McNamara, and Veronica to the front door, all with hands in the air. Veronica is exempt because she couldn’t hurt a fly right now. Heather will leave my rifle on the ground, and will get her own gun and leave,” said JD. “Understood?”

Everyone nodded.

“Betty... stay strong,” Heather Duke breathed, and Betty nodded.

“I love you, Heather, I’ll be okay,” she responded.

“Okay, let’s count down before Jason bursts a blood vessel,” Heather Chandler said. “One, two..”

On three, weapons went down and hands went up, and Heather D and M carried Veronica to the exit.

Nobody seemed to care that they didn’t exactly have their hands up, and they waited just outside the house while Heather and JD did whatever they were doing weapons-wise.

Finally, Heather came out, holding only her handgun again. Veronica was half awake, blearily staring at the sky as Heather picked her up and buckled her into the back of her Subaru.

Veronica’s Subaru.

The other Heathers silently climbed in with her, Heather Duke taking shotgun. It was a solemn and silent affair, and Heather quietly started the car, and quietly put the car into drive and drove away.

The sun hung low in the sky. It was six PM.

“What now?” Heather McNamara asked.

“We’re going back to your house, and we’re going to get Veronica’s bags and you need to pack one for yourself and Heather. We’re going on a little road trip.”

“...And why are we going on a road trip?” Heather Duke asked quietly, after a moment of silence.

“We’re going to find Martha Dunnstock.”

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @nbchristinecanigula, screech your little hearts out at me there.
> 
> when will a sequel be coming? bitch, idfk. i haven’t started writing it so for all anyone knows it’s not happening until after april or july nano.


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